


someone will hold you someday

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [19]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (little bit of it anyway), Aftercare, Alley Sex, Bathing/Washing, Coming In Pants, Dom Original Percival Graves, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, I needed some fluff to make up for that last one I posted, Kinktober, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Roleplay, Soft and Fluffy, Sub Credence Barebone, not-really-twist ending, seriously guys this is Soft As Heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: On a cold October night, Credence meets his beloved Mr. Graves for a rendezvous that doesn't end at all the way one might think it would.DAY 20 of KinktoberWritten for prompts:Human furniture| Roleplay | Aftercare |Emeto
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Kinktober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	someone will hold you someday

“I want you to have this, Credence.” Mr. Graves pulls something out of his pocket. “I would trust…very few with it.” He hangs the necklace around Credence’s neck and gently taps it. “Touch this when you find the child, and I will come to you.” Credence nods, his eyes wet, and Mr. Graves strokes the back of his neck. “Do this,” he murmurs tenderly in Credence’s ear, “and you will be honored among wizards forever.”

Credence trembles and Mr. Graves pulls him into his arms, kissing the side of his head. It feels so good, being held, feeling the man’s strong arms close around him and protect him, keep him steady…he feels warm, _safe,_ he feels more relaxed now than he’s felt all day. More than he has in his entire life, even. He lets his head fall into Mr. Graves’ shoulder, tears pooling in his eyes. _Please,_ he prays silently. _Please don’t let go._

Mr. Graves’ touch is so firm, so commanding. He strokes Credence’s back with the same authoritative pressure he must use when correcting his subordinates’ fighting stances. “There’s my boy,” he hums. “My _very_ good boy. You won’t let me down, will you, my pet? Won’t leave me out in the cold as you dither uselessly around that church waiting for someone to save you?”

Credence has to fight back a sob. He wants, he wants _so badly,_ to be good for his Mr. Graves. “N-no, Mr. Graves. No. I won’t let you down.”

 _“Good_ boy,” Mr. Graves croons again. Credence feels the brick of the alleyway behind his back and gasps a little. Mr. Graves laughs quietly and tilts Credence’s face up so as to look into his eyes. “Don’t you worry a bit, lovely,” he says soothingly. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt you. In fact, I think you may find this very…pleasant.”

Credence swallows hard. Mr. Graves’ hands have gone to his waist, stroking, _caressing._ His…his…oh, good lord…his _cock_ is starting to swell in his pants, his blood turning hot, eyes fluttering closed as he whimpers under Mr. Graves’ expert touch. Those delicious hands quickly untuck his shirt and slide underneath to stroke his bare skin and Credence whines, his head tipping back against the brick. “There’s my good boy,” Mr. Graves says encouragingly. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Too nice,” Credence breathes, forcing his eyes open. “It’s—it’s a _sin,_ Mr. Graves, it’s not—it’s not right, I—I can’t—”

“You can, my precious, and you will.” Mr. Graves leans in and breathes the next words very close to his neck. “You’ll let me touch you, make you feel so good, and then you’ll go and do what I ask, won’t you? You’ll find me the child, so I can take you away from that terrible church? Teach you magic? Bring you home where you belong?”

“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Credence sighs reverently, and then moans helplessly as Mr. Graves’ wonderful lips capture his. Being kissed by the man is like tasting heaven, even more so when Mr. Graves gently pries Credence’s lips apart with his tongue and dips inside, and then all Credence knows is slick wet heat and stars dancing before his eyes as Mr. Graves’ tongue thoroughly explores his mouth. He tastes—Credence isn’t sure what he tastes like. Bitter, but a pleasant bitterness, rich and with a tangy undertone, and maybe a little salty, too…

Credence shivers when feels Mr. Graves’ hands slide up under his shirt, even underneath his _undershirt._ His hands are warm and he knows exactly where to go, his thumbs brushing over Credence’s over-sensitive nipples and making him cry out. He swallows the sound in his kisses and repeats the motion, sending jolts of pleasure down Credence’s spine until he’s a squirming mess.

He breaks away and kisses a steady line down Credence’s neck, stopping briefly to unknot his tie and unbutton his collar. “Mr. Graves,” Credence pleads breathlessly, and then gasps as a knee slots between his thighs and a warm, wet mouth sucks at his neck. “Mr. Graves, people will _see,”_ he protests, his words undercut by his hips instinctively grinding down against the offered leg.

“It’s called a notice-me-not, lovely. No one is going to see us.” He presses Credence a little harder against the brick, and Credence whines softly in reply and grinds down against his leg again, hips moving in startled, jerking, syncopated rhythm as he cries out against the assault of pleasure. “That’s it, my pet. Take what you need from me,” Mr. Graves coos, nuzzling his nose against the curve of Credence’s neck. One firm hand holds his waist, keeping him from squirming away, and the other plunges mercilessly into his hair and tugs, sending further tingles of pleasure rushing down Credence’s spine.

Oh, but it’s _good._ Credence could never imagine this sort of pleasure, could never have dreamed of bringing it about on his own. “I _will_ have you someday, sweet little thing,” Graves hums in his ear, and then gently tugs his earlobe with his teeth. Credence makes a startled, choked little sound and Mr. Graves—Mr. Graves just _laughs._ “You don’t even know all the things I could do to you, Credence”—this as he’s thrusting his knee up between Credence’s legs, rubbing repeatedly against his throbbing groin, making him whimper and shake—“all the different ways I can bring you pleasure, oh, there are things you can’t even imagine…”

Credence gasps and thrusts hard against the knee brushing his aching cock. He can feel it now, can feel this sinful, delicious pleasure building up inside him, bringing him towards inevitable corruption with his completion. He knows if he lets Mr. Graves do this to him, he will never want anything but _it_ ever again. “Stop,” he pleads, “oh, Mr. Graves, you can’t, you’ll ruin me—”

“Oh, you sweet, _innocent_ little thing.” Mr. Graves nuzzles into his neck again, gently biting a bruise he’s already made and sending lightning bolts through Credence’s veins. “Haven’t you already been—ruined, as you call it, at least once or twice? Surely you’ve tried this at least _once_ on your own?”

Credence shakes his head and keens painfully as Mr. Graves’ hand slides under his shirt and tweaks his nipple again. “No—no sir—never.”

“Never?” Mr. Graves breathes against his neck. “Oh, my sweet, _sweet_ boy. You are too good, too pure, aren’t you?” He withdraws a little and Credence almost sobs at the loss—but then Mr. Graves opens up his belt, and Credence winces at the sound of the _clink._ “Oh, no,” Mr. Graves quickly soothes him. “No, no dear, I’m not going to punish you. Not even a little.” He opens up the belt and the pants underneath it, and reaches into Credence’s shorts and—

 _“Aaaahhh!”_ Credence’s head slams back into the brick as Mr. Graves takes him in hand, long, steady strokes that leave him trembling. He feels a thumb caress the slick head and he convulses, his entire body wracked with unbearable pleasure. “Mr. Graves it’s too much, I think—I can’t—I can’t _stop it,_ I—oh God—”

“Give in,” Mr. Graves urges him soothingly, and Credence’s eyes roll up as he feels the older man pressing up against him from the side, his hips thrusting into the meaty part of Credence’s thigh. “Let yourself feel it”—oh God, Credence thinks he may cry, _he can feel Mr. Graves’ cock through his pants_ —“let me make you melt, sweet thing.” He presses another gentle trail of kisses and bites against Credence’s neck. “It’s called an orgasm, darling, and it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever felt. Just relax now, my boy—just let it happen—”

Credence’s knees buckle as the pleasure swells to a near-explosive sensation that he can’t hold back. He collapses against Mr. Graves with a sob as his cock throbs and spills something sticky and messy over Mr. Graves’ hand, a wave of mingled shame and exhilaration sweeping over him.

“Oh, _yes,_ that’s it,” Mr. Graves moans, and Credence feels something throb against his thigh and knows that whatever incredible thing just happened to him, has happened to Mr. Graves as well. He holds Credence close, just for a moment. Credence is still trembling in the aftermath of that intense pleasure when Mr. Graves says, his voice suddenly sharp, “And if you want this to _keep_ happening, Credence, you’ll do as I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Credence chokes out, tears welling in his eyes. “Yes, I’ll do anything, anything you want, I swear—”

“See that you do,” Mr. Graves replies coolly. He looks Credence over with a critical eye. “You’d best put yourself together a bit before you head home. Your mother won’t like it if she knows what you’ve been up to.”

He turns and stalks away, leaving Credence leaning against the wall breathing hard, tears trickling down his face, feeling vulnerable and bereft—but even as he wonders how Mr. Graves could so cruelly abandon him, he still feels the little tremors of pleasure dancing through him, still feels that pleasant, bone-deep satiation as he struggles to push himself up off the wall and get cleaned up.

~

Percy keeps up a confident stroll as he leaves the passageway behind the house, then breaks into a run the moment he’s out of Credence’s sight, bursts through the front door and rushes upstairs. He’s only got a few minutes, if that, to get himself cleaned up and get everything ready.

The mini-fridge in the master bedroom is always stocked for just this reason. Percy fishes out chocolate, orange slices, bottles of water. All of it is set on the edge of the tub, ready and waiting to be consumed. He turns on the electric fireplace—it’s October, so of course it’s cold and he knows Credence has been sweating, he’s bound to be freezing—and rushes to start a bath.

The front door slams. Percy cusses under his breath, scoops a handful of epsom salt into the half-filled bathtub and adds a drizzle of lavender bath oil. He runs down the stairs and finds Credence leaning against the front door. “All right, sweetheart?” he says softly, reaching out to his boyfriend with both hands. “You need me to get you upstairs?”

Credence shakes his head, but he looks a little…lost. His eyes sweep over Percy twice before he really seems to _see_ him. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just…kind of cold.”

“Well then, come on up here and let me get you warm.” Percy takes his hand and tugs him up the stairs. Credence lets himself be led to the bedroom and undressed like a child, with Percy taking great care to touch him as much as possible in the process. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs as he strokes the back of Credence’s neck. “That’s it. You did good out there. Didn’t break character once.”

Credence snuggles up to him, silently angling for a hug that Percy immediately bestows on him. He has to let go after a minute because he remembers the water is running, and Credence tags along into the bathroom and smiles when he sees the full bathtub. Percy quickly sheds his own clothes and steps in, pulling Credence along with him and settling them both down in the warm water.

Once inside, Credence immediately snuggles up to him again and tucks his head up under Percy’s chin. “So good,” he sighs, and then moans aloud when Percy begins to stroke up and down his back. “Oh, that feels nice too.”

“Good. I want you to feel nice, sweetheart.” Percy kisses the top of his head and reaches out with his free hand to get one of the bottles of water from the shelf beside the tub. “Can you drink a little for me, baby? Just a little. It’ll make you feel even better, I promise.”

Credence sighs and reluctantly sits up to take the bottle of water. “You don’t have to sweet-talk me, you know. I know the importance of hydration, thanks.”

Percy laughs indulgently. When Credence has swallowed a few mouthfuls of water, Percy holds out a square of chocolate carefully balanced on an orange slice, and Credence moans appreciatively as the treat is slid past his lips. “There, that’s good, isn’t it? Sweets for my sweet,” he says, and then laughs again as Credence rolls his eyes at the cliche.

“You’re such a sap, you know that?” But he curls up in Percy’s arms again, and presses his face into the crook of Percy’s neck. Percy holds him close and gently strokes his back again, knowing that even if he tries to be strong, Credence always feels a little vulnerable after they roleplay, especially when it’s _that_ one.

They came up with that scene after they’d watched _Harry Potter_ for the five hundredth time. Credence, the eager young wizard who didn’t know he was a wizard (just like Harry, his favorite character), seduced by the dashing Mr. Graves, trying to entice the unsuspecting church boy to the dark side. He loved the idea of a forbidden relationship, the idea of being seduced in a back alley, of being swept off his feet by a “bad guy.”

It is, Percy is pretty sure, a way for Credence to work out some of his demons regarding how they actually _did_ meet. He saw Credence’s mother beating him openly on the street, and ferociously intervened. The sweet young thing was just nineteen then, and it took nearly four years of therapy, as well as him finally completing his education and getting a proper job, before Percy admitted he was ready for a relationship…but now, well. Here they are. 

He’s pretty sure Credence thinks the dry way that Percy conducted their early courtship—lots of check-ins, careful not to spend more than a certain number of hours per week together, insisting they wait what Credence thought was an unfairly long time to have sex—is the most unromantic thing in the world. Being seduced by a dark, mysterious wizard intent on luring him into sin is much, _much_ more sexy and fun.

So Credence loves to play out that fantasy, but he always feels a little shaky after it’s over. He tries to pretend otherwise, and Percy knows it’s because he’s afraid that if he lets Percy know just _why_ he loves it so much—that it’s a way for him to work through the unpleasantness of being more or less held at arm’s length for four years (and he knows Credence felt unwanted all that time, even if Credence knew deep down that it was _right_ to do things that way)—Percy will pull the plug and say “no more roleplaying, it’s obviously upsetting to you.” But Percy would never do that. He can’t deny Credence anything. Not anymore.

“I’ve got you, my love,” he says softly, stroking his boy’s hair and kissing his forehead. He feels something wet drip onto his shoulder. He knows it could be condensation from the steam, but he knows equally certainly that it’s not. “I’ve got you,” he says again, relief and pleasure flooding through him at the sensation of Credence melting in his arms.

Maybe Mr. Graves can walk away from Credence and not think of it…but now that Percy has him, he doesn’t think he could let Credence go if his life depended on it.


End file.
